Bent But Not Broken

One

She had long gotten used to the utter plainness of these walls, crusted with dried blood—her blood.

The cage she was trapped in was medium sized, large enough to walk around in, though the only true entertainment she had was the glass door in front of her, but that merely showed a hallway and more of the cages like the one she was in.

She didn't bother moving, she was too weak. She could hardly stand up anymore. The girl supposed that her time was nearly up, that her use was coming to an end.

It was just as well. Sixteen. years of being enslaved did a lot to a girl. Hell, to a person in general.

Nyxia was half fae, half human, which was considered an abomination by both species, since relations on both sides were quite strained. So when her parents died when she was only four years old, Nyxia was snatched from the orphanage and thrust into slavery.

Everyone here treated her like shit. She was beaten and whipped daily, leaving scars on her back, and bruises on her pale skin. They didn't feed her well, so she was simply skin and bones, all angles and no curves. Nyxia was used to being hungry, so it didn't bother her anymore.

Iron handcuffs encircled her wrists, further weakening her. Nyxia had the displeasure of having more of her fae father's genetics than her human mom's,so she had the same weaknesses as a full blooded fae, as well as the pointed ears.

The silence went on and on and on. Nyxia used to try and scream and bang on the glass when she was younger, to try to see if she could smash it. But the glass was too thick, and it didn't even crack.

When Nyxia had first gotten here, she cried every night, missing her parents, wanting to be free of this hellish world she was thrust into.

Now she didn't cry anymore. Not even when she was whipped bloody. Not when her hair was yanked or she was slapped or kicked. Not when they taunted her.

She never acknowledged any of that anymore, and Nyxia had a feeling that merely pissed off her owner more. Good. She couldn't do much, but she could spite them that way.

Nyxia gazed woodenly at the glass door, eyes staring at the empty cage in front of her. She knew she was the only one left in here, all the others died. Or have been sold. Like cattle.

They were lucky, to be free of this place. Of these horrible people. She was stuck here. A part of here was resentful of her stubbornness. She wished she would die so she didn't have to be here anymore.

So she could be free.

To pass the time, Nyxia tried to remember her parents, to no avail. She was a child when they died, the most she could remember was bits and pieces, and those had cobwebs on them.

It made her sad. She had no idea what her parents were like. She missed out on having a family. People to love.

Love....it was a foreign word to Nyxia.

Just then, Footsteps sounded, startling her out of her mind. She tensed, mind racing. She had already done her work for the day.

Sometimes her owner would come and randomly whip her without any provocation on her part. Maybe that was it. Even tho he

Nyxia shifted slightly, uncomfortable, feeling the scars on her back chaff against the fabric of her plain white gown.

As a half fae, Nyxia had accelerated healing, but whenever her owner whipped her, he used an iron tip, which slowed the healing drastically, leaving quite a bit of thin, white scars. They hurt all of the time. But right now, it was a dull throbbing and easy to ignore.

The footsteps came closer, and Nyxia tensed as she could distinguish two different sets of footsteps.

She held herself very still as they both came into view.

One was her owner, the one who always whipped her. As a fae, there was a cold beauty to him, but Nyxia would always consider him ugly, because his soul is a rotted thing, his heart nonexistent.

She wished he were dead. She wished she could be the one to end his sorry, pathetic life.

He did not deserve one moment of her attention.

Nyxia's eyes slid past him and landed on the stranger. His clothing was finely made, so he was a rich fae, and very, very attractive. His bright silver eyes met her dark eyes, and a jolt went through her. He was tall and  probably had some muscle packed into his lean frame, and he had long black hair, loose and brushing the collar of his shirt, gently curling at the edges.

His lips were soft and full, and his face was sharp and gentle, all at once.

"There's the half blooded slave girl I was talking about." Nyxia's owner was saying to the male while she studied him. "She's a good worker but I need to get more slaves. I doubt she will last much longer."

He had been talking about her to this stranger?

The thought made her sick.

Up until this point, the rich male was silent. But at his words, his lips tightened—into annoyance, perhaps? 

"I will buy her." The male said finally, his voice smooth and deep as silk. Nyxia shivered lightly. He had such a hypnotizing voice.

"She's not for sale, your highness. And as I said, she perhaps only has a few days left to live, so there's no point in selling her."

Nyxia's eyes widened, the most emotion she's shown in years. He was Royalty? And he wanted to buy her?

Instead of responding to her owner, the fae male walked closer, crouching down to her level. He studied her for several more moments. Finally, he spoke to her owner.

"Name your price, and I'll pay it, I want her."

Her owner hesitated for a moment, a look of greed coming across his face. He liked torturing Nyxia, yes. Possibly wanted to see the life dim out of her eyes, But he liked money even more.

"Very well." Her owner said finally, almost reluctantly. "Let's go to my office to finalize the details."

He didn't move from where he crouched in front of her. She sat still, staring right back at him. Finally, he stood, and left with her owner, leaving her reeling.

Nyxia had so many questions. Why did he want to buy her? What was he going to do with her? Was he going to put her out of her misery? use her as a slave in his own place? Was he going to treat her worse or better than her current owner?

She was feeling a slight flutter of anxiety in her stomach. For sixteen years, she had grown to get used to the schedule here. She didn't like it, but it was something she was used to. This fae prince buyer was an unknown variable, and that scared her.

It was a paralyzing fear. The same questions kept on going around and around in her head, but unfortunately she had no way of getting answers. Not now, at least.